The Broken Heart of a Desert Bandit
by The Masked Otaku
Summary: Yamcha is broken hearted and Bulma is avoidant. It has been over three years since their infamous break-up but the two have never had a chance to discuss it. Now that both of their lives have settled down in the aftermath of the Androids and Cell, it is time for Yamcha to gain some closure as he reflects on his life with the only woman he ever truly loved. One-shot, short story.


A/N: Hello dear readers. This is a short story in three acts discussing the relationship between Yamcha and Bulma. The scene takes place several months after the end of the Cell Games and is meant to articulate the complex relationship between the former lovers as (for once) their lives have a bit of normalcy. This fanfic addresses the unseen separation between the two and the subsequent feelings they both have. Please review and if you enjoy this fanfic please check out my others including 'The Last Diary Entry of Bulma Briefs'.

**The Broken Heart of a Desert Bandit**

_ACT I: Yamcha's Apartment_

Yamcha stumbled into his apartment after what seemed like an eternity of fidgeting with the keys.

"Finally!" He gasped with a sigh of relief before taking his key back out of the lock and shutting the door behind him. "Another 'successful' date. Way to go Yamcha."

He proceeded to throw his jacket haphazardly on the couch nearby, along with the rest of his belongings. His wallet, among them, was certainly lighter than when he had left. After his disastrous evening with a local model ended, he had imbibed his sorrows for the night at a bar around the block from where he lived.

"Ugghhh" The martial artist groaned as he fell to his bottom, back against the door. His hands covered his face as he tried to close off the world. Tonight was his third unsuccessful date for this week alone. He had lost count as to how many dates he had partaken in within the past year but they all ended the same; horribly and prematurely.

After a few seconds he took a deep breath and unburied his head. Tears made their way down his cheeks, glistening in the moonlight. "Why?" He asked himself aloud. "Why does this keep on happening?" He certainly had an easy time going out and meeting people. In contrast to his younger years when he lived in the desert, he was now a natural at talking to others. He had a large group of friends in town but there was something preventing him from having any type of romantic relationship.

Lethargically, Yamcha pulled himself up from his seated position and made his way to the balcony of his penthouse. Despite his drunken state, he managed to successfully navigate around his furniture without tripping over anything. He slid the glass door open, welcoming the breeze of cool air. He then rested his arms on the railing to look down at the urban environment. Unfortunately, this did little to soothe him. While the city below was alive with sounds and lights he couldn't help but feel dead inside.

Sighing once again, he forced his head upwards. Even with the light pollution from the city he was still able to have a nice view of the night sky. It was bittersweet because staring off into the stars always reminded him of one person. The one person who he attributed his unsuccessful relationships to, the one person he could not get out of his head no matter how hard he tried, the one person, and only person, he ever truly loved.

"Bulma Briefs"

Even whispering her name caused him to shiver. Along with all the happy memories they once shared came a rush of unhappy ones. From their first fight, to their separation just before Raditz came to Earth, to their permanent separation when… when…

Yamcha shut his eye's trying not to think about it but the thought still came.

…When Vegeta started to train at Capsule Corp and stole her away from him.

He grimaced at the thought. Of all people, why did it have to be him?! Just a few years earlier the 'Prince of Saiyans', as he liked to be called, was trying to eradicate every living thing from the planet. And now, Bulma, _HIS_ Bulma, had a child with that arrogant jerk.

He gripped harder at the metal railing, crushing it.

"How could you do this to me?" He questioned underneath his breath. "How could you give up on everything we had, everything we've been through, to be with him?"

As he vocalized his feelings to himself, Yamcha realized that he had never talked with Bulma about this sense of betrayal and feelings of infidelity (even though they were on one of their 'breaks'). Despite the fact that over three years had past since their final break up, both of their lives (until recently) had been consumed by the calamities around them. From preparing for the coming of the Androids, to fighting Cell, to Goku's death and subsequent funeral, neither of them had really been given the time to truly sit down and reflect on what had happened between them.

Yamcha sighed. He wondered if Bulma would even be willing to talk about their past, let alone if she would ever have time to meet. Emotions aside, it was nearly impossible to see her. With her busy work life at Capsule Corp, she had already turned down a few requests to meet up with him, Krillin, and Roshi over the past several months. Then of course there was the question as to whether she was preoccupied or avoidant.

"Aaaggghh" The warrior grabbed at his scalp, pulling at his hair. This was making him insane. "Maybe I should just forget it- NO" He shook his head vigorously as if to physically dispel the thought from his mind. "I have to communicate with her. I can't keep going on with this weight on my chest."

Then an idea popped into his head. If he couldn't meet with Bulma in person to discuss this, then perhaps he could use some other type of medium.

He returned to the inside of his apartment and immediately made his way to the bedroom where against the far wall sat his desk. He fell into his chair and swiveled around, turning on his desk lamp to illuminate all of the miscellaneous items that cluttered the area. Using his forearm, he brushed some of the debris aside as he took out a single sheet of paper from one of the attached drawers. He proceeded to slam the paper down with one hand as he grabbed a pen from a holder with his other and began to write.

'Bulma,

As I begin to write this letter it is nearly 2AM and I find myself at yet another restless night. My insomnia, which only began after our official break up over three years ago, has kept me up countless of nights as I think of you, of us, and what could have been. Trying to talk with you for the past few months has proved next to impossible. I don't know if you are too busy or rather if you are avoiding me. My senses tell me it is the latter. A permanent awkwardness has seemed to have wedged itself in between us due to the fact that we once held something special. Anytime I enter a room and it is just you, you quickly excuse yourself to some task you instantly remembered that you needed to do. If we are spending time with friends and one of them leaves the room you follow in hopes of offering a 'helping hand' no matter how minimal the task. In these past three years since our break up I cannot recall a conversation lasting more than a few sentences between us. I guess the whole 'remaining friends' after a relationship is never really that simple, especially given the circumstances of our rather interesting and adventurous lives. Therefore I resort to this pen and paper in hopes that my words will reach your eyes since they will not reach your ears.

I cannot continue on like this anymore. The truth, which is something I have been hiding even from myself, is that I am still in love with you. I have always been in love with you. Despite our many quarrels and differences that we have had over the years, you are the one person that has made me think, made me crazy, made me happy, made me invigorated, made me grow, and made me love. You were the one who tamed my wild spirit back when we first met. And when I fought to protect the Earth, I fought for you. But now you are with the very person I fought to protect you from AND you have a son together! I don't know which fact is worse for me knowing that I died in battle thanks to… _him_. I do not even wish to acknowledge him by name. Yes, he had changed by the time you met him (and continued to change afterwards) but in many ways he was still the man I was trying to protect you from; an undertaking that I have ultimately failed at. It wasn't just enough that he took my life; he had to take you as well. Believe me when I say that you have no idea how this feels for me. However, he is not fully to blame.

When I came back from the dead I had hoped that everything would go back to normal for us. Feeling your embrace after I returned is what made me realize it wasn't a dream. It had been so long since I had felt your touch that at that moment I never wanted to let you go again. That memory is still as clear as day because of how happy I was. If only I had known what was to come soon afterwards…

You're invitation to _him_ to stay at Capsule Corp stung. This was the man responsible for my death in the first place and you were inviting him into your home! However, I was quick to dismiss this action as a result of your kind hospitality. When he stole your fathers ship and went into space I had hoped that would be the last we would see of him. I wanted to focus on you, on 'us'. It wasn't until he came back, when he actually did start to live at Capsule Corp, that I started to realize a difference in you. I think we both now know, that moment was the beginning of the end.

At first it was subtle, but with each passing day your flirtation with him grew, as did my jealousy. We had both flirted with the opposite sex before in our relationship. The other would get jealous and a fight would ensue. This was followed by a brief cool-off period, which ended with us consoling each other as we made up. Because, at the end of the day we knew our flirtations were just that, flirtations. We both knew we loved each other, and would never actually cheat with anyone else… but this time was different. We would fight about him, but never make up. Instead you found console in him, **how** exactly I will never understand but that is where you turned to. In contrast I turned to my own training and alcohol. Thus the more we fought the more we drifted apart.

The tipping point for me came when he had injured himself in the gravity chamber. As we approached the site you were the first to spot him amongst the rubble. You immediately knelt down and held him in your arms. And at that moment I saw it, the look in your face. He was no longer a stranger staying at your residence, or even a friend you had taken in. No, your expression had conveyed what I had feared the most, what I had refused to believe until then… you had fallen in love with him. The way I felt can barely be put into words but I assume the closest way of describing it was that I felt like I was dying over and over again. Because in that moment, one that I will never be able to forget no matter how hard I try, I realized I had lost you.

The few weeks and months that followed I became desperate. I was fighting a losing battle to keep you and after every fight I consoled myself with more and more alcohol. It all eventually came to a head when after one particularly big fight I brought a girl home that you assumed I slept with. It was what led to our next 'break'… our last 'break'. Not long after you said that you didn't want to see me for a while I heard you had declared your love for _him_.

However, what you don't know about the story is that, although I was drunk, I never slept with that girl. Instead, she called her friends to come over and party at my penthouse while I passed out in the bathroom with my head in the toilet. I never got a chance to explain what had happened because the next time I saw and spoke with you, you had just discovered you were pregnant with Trunks. After that, I knew there was no point in explaining anything.

That is until now.

As I mentioned at the beginning of this letter I am still in love with you, which is true. However, my feelings of love are also mixed with feelings of anger and a sense of betrayal. I don't know quite what to feel anymore. My emotions are complicated beyond even my own comprehension. All that I know for certain is that you were the only person I have truly loved and, despite all of the time that has passed and how much you have hurt me, I have only ever been able to think about you while I've been with anyone else. Ever since our split I have been in one crappy relationship after the next. Most of my dates don't even get the opportunity to be classified as a relationship because they only last one night. It is because of you. It is because you took my heart, my very soul, and broke it into an infinite number of pieces.

I had to write you this letter to let you know how I feel, to let you know that I can't let you go, whatever that means.

You have broken my heart Bulma… and I have no idea where to go from here. Maybe we will be able to talk in person, maybe not. Either way I had to get this off my chest.

-Yamcha

The former desert bandit folded up the letter and placed it in an envelope that he addressed simply to 'Bulma'. He sighed. The process of writing the letter itself had proved to be an emotional rollercoaster as he was forced to recall his happiest and most painful times with his ex. However, it served to release a huge weight that he had been holding on to for some time. With utter exhaustion, Yamcha turned of the light to his desk and collapsed on his bed with the letter still in his hand. He would hand deliver it to the Capsule Corp mailbox the following day but until then he felt he deserved some much needed sleep.

* * *

_ACT II: Capsule Corporation_

The sun broke through the skyline of the city casting light onto Yamcha. The warrior scrunched his face before slowly opening his eyes and sitting up in his bed. It was silent. He looked down at his hand where the letter was. Recalling everything he had written, he knew that this letter indeed came from the heart rather than from some drunken state of mind.

"Right." He said to himself with confidence.

After a quick shower, breakfast, and change of clothes, he made his way out the door, letter in hand.

The drive to West City was not far and it was just past noon when he arrived in front of Capsule Corp. He pulled up to the mailbox and shut off the car engine. For a minute he just sat there, in silence. The traffic around the block was minimal at best, which provided him the opportunity to have a clear head about his next action. Looking down at his letter one last time he told himself "Well, now or never."

Yamcha stepped out of the car and opened the mailbox. But before he could put the letter in, he heard a child's laughter nearby.

He looked up to see a young Trunks run from the side of Capsule Corp into the front yard.

"Come get me mommy." The toodler squealed with delight as he continued to run with his chubby legs. The blue haired woman appeared from around the corner that her son had come from. She was walking cautiously as she had her hands over her eyes.

"Where are you Trunks?" She giggled. "I can't see you?"

"Haha put down your hands mommy."

Bulma lowered her hands and acted surprised to see her son standing before her a few yards away.

"There you are! I've been looking everywhere for you."

"Come and get me!" He squealed again, continuing his run.

She then proceeded to playfully chase him around the side of the yard as the air became filled with their laughter.

Yamcha stood still at the mailbox, watching them.

For a while he didn't think, he just observed. Their laughter filled the depths of his soul, the same soul that had been poured out onto the letter in his hand the night before. Then, it was as if everything had suddenly been put into perspective.

Bulma was happy, happier then he had ever seen her in his entire life… and he was glad about that.

The emotions he had felt towards her were not because he hated her; it was because he truly still loved her. He wanted to be the one to make her that happy but, whether he liked it or not, things turned out differently. If he really loved her as much as he thought then he couldn't be angry because of this. Fate had created a different future than the one he had dreamed of. However, it fulfilled the most important aspect of his dream… for Bulma to be happy.

Yamcha looked back down at the letter in his hand.

He could no longer hold onto the anger he had felt towards her. To do so would be selfish and trivial. The fact was that she had fallen in love with someone else and created a new life with that person. While it hurt to accept that, he knew that it was not her intention to cause him harm. The heart cannot be controlled. It cannot be trained to fall, or not fall, in love with someone. It is a fickle thing that is our greatest strength as well as our greatest weakness.

"Live without regret." Yamcha whispered to himself before folding the envelope and stuffing it in his pocket.

He turned back toward his car, but before he could get in, he was spotted.

"Mommy, look who it is. Yamcha-san!" Trunks exclaimed, running up to greet the warrior. "Hi Yamcha-san!"

Yamcha looked at Trunks and then made eye contact with Bulma. She was no doubt surprised to see him.

"Yamcha." She muttered to herself.

The martial artist looked down at Trunks who was now at his leg.

"Hey Kiddo." He greeted, tousling Trunks' hair. "Hiya Bulma."

"Yamcha, Hi. What brings you here?" She asked, somewhat out of breathe as she approached the entranceway by the mailbox.

Trying to come up with a quick lie, Yamcha laughed while scratching his head. "Oh well you know, haha, I was just in the neighborhood and thought I would stop and say Hi… so… Hi, haha."

"Oh, well I actually have some work I have to get to shortly," She said looking down at her watch. "but I think Vegeta is out back training. How about you meet him out back and I will get us some tea when I'm done."

"She's doing it again." Yamcha thought to himself. "She is deliberately avoiding me."

"Bulma wait." He said before she could make her way towards the house. She turned back towards him.

"I can't stay. I only dropped by to say hi and…" He sighed. "and tell you that I'm happy for you."

"What?" Bulma was rather puzzled by his declaration.

"I'm happy for you." He reiterated. "I don't think I've ever told you it before, but I really am. Seeing you play with Trunks just now, made me realize that I should tell you this. In fact, I think motherhood has changed your life for the better because whenever you are around him, you light up in a way that I have never seen."

"Well, being a parent sure does change things." She replied, smiling down at Trunks and brushing some of his lavender hair away from his face.

"I can tell." Yamcha commented with a smile. "Bulma, you have a successful career, a loving family and, to be honest, you deserve it. You deserve to be happy. And I just wanted to say that no matter what has happened in our past, no matter what quarrels we have been a part of, I'm genuinely happy for you. It's clear that this is the life you were meant to live and I'm just glad that I can be apart of that life… as a friend."

He emphasized the last few words of that statement as he stretched his hand out for a handshake. The words he spoke could only partially convey just how he felt but one look into his eyes and Bulma knew all that remained unspoken. This was a type of conversation she had been avoiding but she was glad he had approached the subject.

Ignoring his outstretched hand, Bulma gave her former lover a hug, which he returned.

"Thank you." She said silently as a tear fell down her cheek and onto his shoulder.

They stood there in embrace for a moment before slowly parting. Yamcha kept his smile while she wiped away another tear.

"I have to go, but you guys say 'Hi' to Vegeta and your parents for me."

Bulma nodded in response. "Will do."

"Bye Yamcha-san." Trunks waved, not too aware of what had just happened.

"Bye guys!" Yamcha waved back as he got in his car and drove off into the outskirts of the city.

* * *

_ACT III: The Desert_

The fire crackled in the night sky, illuminating Yamcha as he sat near the entrance of his old home in the desert. The house he had once lived in with Puar was now mostly abandoned. It only served its purpose for the occasional time when he wanted to get away from the city.

Yamcha held in his hands the wrinkled envelope that contained the letter he had written the previous night. His traced his finger delicately over Bulma's name as he thought about his feelings towards her. The letter he held onto represented a bitter Yamcha and a previous life that he knew he needed to let go. Without any reservation he leaned forward and placed the envelope in the middle of the fire, watching as it caught flame and burned away. He was finally moving on.

With his hands behind his head, the former desert bandit laid beside the fire looking up at the stars, which were even more vibrant now that he was out of the city. They still reminded him of Bulma but provided him with a different set of emotions. After today he could no longer hang on to the animosity he had felt. Everything he had told her was indeed true; he was happy for her. Seeing her smile as she played with her son opened his eyes to the world outside of their past. She had moved on and it was time he did as well.

Yamcha closed his eyes as he reflected on their life together. By the time they had first spoken to each other they had made separate plans to make a wish to the dragon for a significant other. Then, in the midst of the chaos surrounding their quest for the dragonballs, they fell in love. Looking back, it seemed silly to think their love could have occurred because of a magical wish. Love is not something that can be wished for, if it was then it wouldn't really be love at all. No, love is something that just happens. It's uncontrollable. That is why he and Bulma eventually split up. She no longer had the same feelings toward Yamcha, no matter how hard either of them tried to make it work. Instead, she fell in love with someone else. It hurt that it happened but the truth was it had happened. While they were together they had remained loyal to each other, which was the most important thing. However, the love between them was ultimately not enough to keep them together.

He was unaware for what the future would hold for him. Perhaps he would find love like that again, perhaps not. Either way there would always be a special place in his heart for the woman named Bulma Briefs. As he continued to reminisce about the special times they had spent together, many at the very house he was laying next to, he felt happy, rather than sad. He was happy that he had gotten to know Bulma, happy to grow up and share experiences with her. After today, he could look back and say that he had no regrets.

The pain of his broken heart was still present but for the first time in years he started to pick up the pieces and put them back together. It would take time, but eventually his broken heart would mend itself and all the broken pieces would be placed back in the right spot.

Well almost all of the pieces.

For one piece of his heart would always be held with Bulma, just as a piece of hers would always be held with him.


End file.
